


Huff, Puff, and Blow

by frenchposie



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Allergies, Alternate Universe, Coughing, Flu, Fluff and Angst, Influenza, M/M, Modern Era, Sickfic, fatigue, sick, sneeze, sneezefic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-05-05 13:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5377064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchposie/pseuds/frenchposie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several fic story lines set in the same modern AU.  Javert/Valjean with a young Cosette. <br/>1. Javert has a severe allergic reaction and Valjean provides care<br/>2. Valjean is taken down by the flu (introduction of new OC)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Although Javert went out of his way to make certain that no one ever saw him in a weakened state, he was certain that he was done in every fall.  Fall was when the weather turned wetter and the mold spores grew on the trees in the area.  Normally, he enjoyed living in the suburban area outside of Paris.  It was lovely all year long, and Cosette was able to make the most darling friends.  Not to be fooled, he always kept an eye out for predators, even in their safe neighborhood.  But, with Jean there as a counter balance, he didn’t mind if people called him an old wolf or guard dog.  He had not had an easy upbringing, and he would fight to protect his family at all costs.

 

This year had been particularly bad, with a host of rainy days and then some warm and muggy days to follow.  The very air was oppressive and he swore that the mold was already floating in the air, even though the news reports said that they were having good air purity.  He had developed a bit of a wheeze, and although Jean was concerned, Javert was positive that everything was all right.  This was just part of his allergy.

 

That is until he was walking through the park that morning.  There had been another storm the night before and everything was wet and slick.  He imagined that the slipperiness was the mold from the leaves, spreading out into a slime.  The whole idea made him feel claustrophobic, and he decided that going home was his best idea.  He had to get a shower and into fresh clothes.  He had to be inside, where the air was as pure as he could get it.  He had to get away from –

 

With a jerk, he felt his foot slide out from beneath him and then off to the side as he counterbalanced too hard.  Arms out, brown eyes widened in horror as he fell forwards into a pile of leaves that had been raked, but not removed, sometime earlier that morning.  Stunned, he took a gasping breath in after he hit, and then another deep breath in order to hold his breath.  But, it was too late.  He could feel the tickles spreading through his chest, nose, and head.  It was as though hundreds of tiny ants were marching within his body and they tickled him furiously.  “Heh…. AttKKESSHH!”  he sneezed violently into his hands, before realizing that his hands were already covered with the leaf goo. 

 

Using the cuff of his jacket, he tried to wipe what he could off his cheeks, but it only served to move it closer to his nose and eyes.   Quickly, he pushed himself up, desperate to get the leaves that had stuck to his woolen uniform off of him.  If he felt claustrophobic before, he felt positively suffocated now. 

 

“Heh…eh… EHH… AH-KETCHOO!”  The force of the sneeze propelled him forward, causing him to instinctually bring his hands up to his face again.  This time, he felt his nose crash into his still wet hands, and he knew he was done-for.  He winced thinking about how he would have to take the next day off work.  There was no way that he could go into work as miserable as he was certain he would be feeling.  In fact, if he could think of anything but the multitudes of ants that felt like they were spreading up his sinuses and down his throat, he would likely have called his commissaire right then.

 

“HEH… Ehhh.  KETSSHOOO!  HAH-SHOO!”  Wetter than the others, these were also sneezed into his hands and left him with another problem.  He had to either blow his nose or sniff the allergen back into his body. 

 

He started to walk the short block home, as one hand covered his nose and the other pat his pockets down for his handkerchief.  Upon finding it, however, he found it to be slightly damp from his fall.   Breathing out of his mouth, he wondered which would have worse consequences and decided that propriety needed to come first.  Quickly, he withdrew his handkerchief, pressed it to his face and blew as hard as he could, resulting in a wet gurgling blow.

 

He huffed out a panting breath at the end and hoped that the air that hit his tender lungs would somehow help purify them.  Too quickly, his wheeze came back, and he knew that he would need a shower as soon as he got in the door.  

 

His chest constricted painfully as he tried to take more deep breaths, burning for his effort.  “Heh…” he could feel another sneeze building, and felt as though everything in his head was sliding forward.  “Heeh…Guh…”   _‘No… no…’_  he thought, hoping that no one could see him as he focusing on his home and all but ran there.   “HEH… Eh… EHH… KEH…” the sneeze stopped, bringing Javert to a halt.  He squeezed his eyes shut as hot allergic tears started to gather in the cornered.  He rubbed under his nose, remembering upon contact the goo that remained on his leaf and sneeze soaked hands.  “HAH-SHOO!  ESSHOO!  ETCHHHH!”  He sniffled at the end, as was bent in half was a thunderous, “ESSSHOO-HAH!”  Coughing throatily, he hastened his step towards home and prepared for a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert begins to deal with his allergy at home.

Javert came through the door with a wet, “Hesshiff!  Hessshiiiff!”  Hand on the doorknob, barely in the door, he found himself staring at his knees and completely  out of breath.

“Javert?”

Jean’s strong baritone instantly brought a happy sigh to Javert’s heart.  Not that he could take a deep breath to sigh even if he wanted to.  A wet cough, and then Javert righted himself and closed the door.

Jean’s jaw went slightly slack when he saw how unkempt his generally meticulous partner was.  He came towards Javert in quick, even strides, but stopped when he put out a hand.

“HEH-Ehh….,” a pause and then, “KEH-Assshoo!”  Worried that his hands would only make the situation worse and sneezed freely to the side.  He sniffed strongly, missing Jean’s wince of disgusted.  “Hess-SHOO!”  Too fast to sneeze to the side, the sneeze detonated against the cuff of Javert’s uniform.

“What happened?” Jean asked, observant eyes taking in the red, irritated eyes and nose of his lover.

“I fell into a pile of leaves,” Javert said, his voice so congested Jean had to parse out what he had said.

“Into the shower with you,” he said, moving to the side.  “Leave your uniform on the floor.  I’ll deal with it.”

About half and hour later, Javert emerged in his pajamas.  While normally he got home too late to wear them out, today he was happy for the warm flannel against his tired skin. Everything felt worn and drawn, and he felt as though he had taken a sleep aid, although he hadn’t yet.

“Better?” ValJean asked.

If he felt that he hand full control of his eyes, Javert would have rolled them.  As it was, he had sniffled and sneezed his way through the shower – happy that this was just an allergy rather than a cold.  Were it an infectious illness, he would quarantine the bathroom off until it could be bleached.  He couldn’t cover all of his sneezes and keep himself righted.  After a while, the frequent sneezing had caused a headache, and the continued sneezing caused dizziness.

Halfway through his attempted eye roll, tears started leading out.  He rubbed under his eyes roughly.  “I’m not crying,” he said, his voice husky and congested.  “I’m just… just….”  Both hands clamped over his mouth as he sneezed violently, the force of the sneeze throwing him forwards. Had ValJean not been there, he was certain he would have lost his footing.

“Bless you,” he offered as he gently righted his partner.

Hands still clamped firmly over his nose and mouth, Javert couldn’t acknowledge Jean before, “Yihh… ESSSHHH!  YESSSHOOO!  Hesssshhh!”  Loud and wet, the sneezes attacked his hands.  He sniffed to try to make himself presentable before lowering his hands, but it only caused his throat to tickle madly.  He coughed, which automatically caused his sinuses to clog.

“Here,” ValJean pushed a wad of tissues into Javert’s hand.   “Get yourself settled on the couch, and I’ll bring you a few remedies to try to help clear you out.”

“Ihhh…. Hiiihhh….Ehhh….”  Javert had settled himsef under a blanket on the couch.  The last time he had the flu he didn’t even allow ValJean to dote on him like this.  In fact, he was pretty sure he hadn’t felt this uncomfortable even when the 39.4o (103o F) ravaged his body.  “Essfressshoo!” he sneezed freely, bending at the waist as he did so.  “Heh-eh… Esssshhooo!  Essshooo!  Essshooo!  Hettcccchhh!”  He was able to catch the last four in the crook of his elbow, and groaned at the end.  His head pounded in protest, and he winced. 

ValJean came in with a steaming bowl and put it on the coffee table.  If ever he wasn’t in the mood for soup.  “Ehhh…. Ehhh…. Ehhhh…. Hat-SHOO!”  He blew his nose a bit, but was still too congested for it to do much good.

ValJean gave him a sympathetic look.  “Come, I have just the thing,” he said, gesturing towards the bowl.

A slight shake of his head, and then, “Heh-Ehh…ESSS-CHOO!  Ecccchh-SHOO!  ETHCH –.”  He held his breath.  He didn’t want to eat, but he needed the sneezes to stop.  He was desperate for it.

“Don’t do that. You’ll blow your ears out from the pressure,” ValJean said, as he came to the end of the couch.  He leaned his hip against it, and stroked a warm hand down his partner’s cheek. 

Unable to hold his breath any longer, Javert started to let out the breath and relax.  The relaxation was short lived, however.  “ETTCCH-SHOO!”  He finished with chesty coughs, which he tried to smother.  Unable to do so, he coughed into a fist, the force getting harder as each cough caused his throat to tickle and sinuses to plug up more. 

ValJean rubbed Javert’s back, watching helplessly as his partner suffered.  He had medication that Javert could take that would knock him out.  But, there were other things that needed to happen first.

ValJean went into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water.  He stayed close by while Javert sipped it, in case the man needed to sneeze again.   Finally, the symptoms subsided.

“Okay,” ValJean said, nudging Javert so that he was sitting next to him on the couch.  “Now, just bend your head over the bowl and breath as deep as you can.  It’ll help loosen the congestion.”

No sooner had Javert dipped his head forward than it felt like all the gunk in his sinuses rushed forward, causing a horrible pressure behind his eyes.  But, he did as instructed and after a few breaths, he found that he could breathe better.   

“Ehh-Isshoo!”  The sneeze was  quick, but Javert was able to catch it.  He felt a kiss be placed to his temple and turned his head to smile at ValJean.  As soon as he did, he felt the pressure in his sinuses explode into an urgent tickle that needed to be expelled immediately.  Unwilling to sneeze on ValJean, he did the only thing he could do – he turned his head back. 

“KETCH-HA!”  His head bobbed down violently, causing him to go face first into the water.  He pulled his face out quickly, but noticed how good the warm water felt.  In a moment of insanity, he resubmerged his face, only realizing that he was too disoriented for such a gesture when the need to sneeze intensified again. 

He inhaled, pulling in water that caused him to choke.  But, before he could pull his head out he sneezed again – the large air bubble created caused the water to splash over the edges.  He felt ValJean pull his shoulder, and he came out of the water choking and sputtering.   He felt a cloth dry his face, while his body was wracked with coughs. 

He felt himself be pulled into ValJean’s warm embrace and focused on that warmth while the fit subsided.

“Are you all right?”

Javert nodded.  He was having trouble keeping his eyes open.  Warm and exhausted, he drifted off to sleep despite himself.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert has woken from his nap and is medicated. But, things are somehow worse.

“Heh-Esssshoooo!” Javert sneezed wetly into a well used handkerchief.  They had given up on tissues after his nap, when his sneezing was less extreme, but wetter and more frequent.  “Heh-Eh…. ESsshooo! ESsshoo! Ugh.”  He dabbed at his reddened eyes and sniffed, immediately regretting it.  “Hesshooo!”  Tears leaked from his closed eyes  and left hot trails down his cheeks, as she set himself back amongst the couch pillows.  Legs propped up on the ottoman before him, he longed for his chair.  There was something comforting about the wing backed recliner, something that made him feel safe, and sleepy.  But, something that made him feel even safer was having ValJean next to him.  He blew his nose a bit, happy that the antihistamine was starting to kick in and the pressure was starting to release.

“Cosette left for a friends’ house tonight.” ValJean said coming into the room.  His daughter had come home while Javert was asleep, asking if she could stay at one of her little friends’ house.  Taking it as a gift from Providence, ValJean allowed it and shipped her out before dinner.   Cosette was none the wiser, but asked her papa to tell Javert that she loved him and give him a hug for her.

Javert was mid-sneeze when ValJean started talking.  At the end he cleared his throat and fixed ValJean with a glare.  “Which friend?”

“Eliza.”  He was ready for the questions.  Javert never could learn to trust the safety of the suburbs.  “She lives two doors down.  Her mum is a school teacher and her dad is one of the managers at the paper factory.”

“Esssshooo!  Esshooo!  Hah-Eh…” Javert held his breath.  His eyes were dry and sore, his nose hurt, his chest hurt.  He wanted to stop sneezing.  He needed to stop sneezing.  Now.  By any means possible.

“Don’t do that,” ValJean murmured quietly, gently tapping the bridge of Javert’s nose. 

“N-huh-oh,” Javert breathed his displeasure with the action, as the sneezy feeling increased tenfold.  “YEATCCHHHH!  Hah-SHOO!  SHOO!  Asshhhh-HOO!”  He blew his nose fully, giving ways to chesty coughs.  “Don’t do that!” he growled stuffily, giving ValJean the best glare he had, which was annoyed at best.  His face felt like it was buzzing, and he felt oddly disconnected.

ValJean chuckled softly.  “Holding them in only makes you sneeze harder,” he said, gently massaging Javert’s neck.

“ESsshooo!” was Javert’s onlyi response, caught in his nose useless handkerchief.  His cheeks burned at the premise of asking for another one.  It wasn’t that he needed another one; it was that ValJean would try to take the one in his hand.  The gross factor was uncalled for. 

Pushing himself to his feet, he winced as the pressure in his head changed.  He focused through the dizzy feeling, taking a tight, wheezing breath in. 

“Javert what are you…?”

“Hessshhh! Essshhhh!  Essshhh!  Hasssshhh!”  The sneezes were shockingly quick and wet.   He couldn’t get a breath between them, and the dizziness increased.  He took a gasping, short breath before another volley barreled out of him.  “Hesshhh!  Essshh!  Essshh!  Efffressshooo!”   Finally, the sneezing ended with a long gurgling blow, which seemed to last nearly as long as the sneezing had.

ValJean did not move.  He wanted to stand up, and at least put a hand on Javert’s shoulder. But, he knew better.  Javert had not given any indication that he wanted to be touched.  He had gotten up for a reason, perhaps because he felt this sneeze attack coming on.  “Sit down,” he directed gently.

“Need a new handkerchief,” Javert explained, his voice so stuffy that ValJean could barely understand what he was saying.

“I have one for you right here,” ValJean said.  “Now, sit down before you fall down.”

As though the fates were being cruel, a breath stealing sneeze exploded out of Javert, causing him to stumble forward.  His shin collided with the coffee table, causing his already precarious balance to falter and his other shin hit the couch.  Before ValJean could even respond, Javert crashed over the table, catching himself on his ribs as his hand overshot and caught the floor.  A gasping exhale emanated from Javert as he lay still. 

“Bless you?” ValJean offered tentatively, trying to feel out how badly Javert was injured before he tried to move him. 

“Call my commandant,” Javert said, between happy breaths.  “I can’t go to work tomorrow.”

ValJean was relieved that Javert had come to that realization on his own.  “All right,” he said with a nod.  “Are you injured?”

A small shake of his head.  “I don’t think so.  But we’ll… we’ll… find… out.”  Turning away from ValJean, he pushed himself onto his side.  “Hetcchhh-SHOO!  Hesssshooo!  Esssshoooo! Ugh.”  He took a deep breath and concentrated on his ribs.  “Nothing broken.  But, I’m gonna hurt tomorrow.”  He coughed a bit as ValJean helped him up.

Rubbing a hand over the bridge of his nose and over his eyes, Javert sat back down and took the handkerchief that ValJean offered.  “Thank you,” he whispered, still moving slowly to make sure everything responded the way it was supposed to.  “Jean.  We have to make the sneezing stop.”

“I’m not letting you take more medicine.  Honestly, you should be feeling better by now.”

“Well, I suppose I am.  The sneezes are more manageable… I mean, if it had been like be –b-fore...” Another small shake of his head and.  “Yihhh…. CHOO!”  He sniffed wetly, then blew his nose.   A sigh and then.  “Sorry.”

ValJean pressed a kiss to the side of his head, which Javert pulled away from jerkily.  He held up a hand to diffuse whatever situation could arise from the motion.  “I just don’t want to be touched.  It’s not that I don’t want _your_ touch.”

“It’s okay,” ValJean said.  It always hurt his feelings a bit when Javert pulled away.  But, he wouldn’t admit it.  He knew the other man loved him.  That’s all that mattered.

The handkerchief was brought back up to Javert’s face.  “Yiiiih-heh-eh…. Essshooo!  Shooo! Shoo!  Ehh…. Ehh…. Ehhhh…. Assshooo!”  He blew his nose again and sniffed lightly. “Make them stop Jean,” he practically begged. 

Since the medicine didn’t seem to be working, ValJean nodded.  Generally, he would say that the body needed to expel the body.  But, now, watching his partner suffer so… he knew that he had to help.  “I’ve heard of some non-medical things we can do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised 5 chapters, but it's going to stop at 4... for now...

avert ached.  His ribs were bruised, he could tell. His head pounded, just on the verge of a migraine.  His eyes were burning and dry, long since having run out of tears.  His skin was hot to the touch as his body tried desperately to process the allergen.   He sat in his chair, his elbows on his knees and head in his hands.  He felt sick.  Dizzy.  Tired.  Disassociated.

He lifted his head when ValJean came back into the room with a tray of supplies.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  He usually worked so hard not to be a bother.  He worked hard and tried not to need anything when he got home.  His daily goals were to act in a way that would bring his family and the prefecture honor, and to stay out of the way at home.   Now he wasn’t only in the way, he was being problematic.  It was shameful.

 

“Why would you ever apologize?  You’ve done nothing to owe one.”  He put the various things on the coffee table, and put an apron on.

 

Javert sighed. It was obvious that the antihistamine’s had finally kicked in.  He hoped that meant that the sneezing would stop for good.  That it was over.  He hurt so much.  A sneeze would make everything worse.   “I don’t know.”  The truth would not be received well – he knew.  He didn’t even want to try to say it. 

 

ValJean came and knelt in front of him.  “It’s all right.  It seems the drugs have finally kicked in.  Care to take another nap?”

 

Javert shook his head, and dizziness set in. He wavered a bit before leaning back in his chair.   His eyes closed despite himself.  He felt his legs levitate a bit and knew that he should see what was going on.  But, as a warm blanket was put around him, he no longer felt it necessary and soon fell into a restful sleep.

 

He awoke a few hour later with a wet “Hsssshhhtt!”   His eyes pulled open, and he realized that the room was dark.  There weren’t any lights on in the room, save the hallway light, and the moonlight that came in through the window.   His body throbbed in a dull ache.  His eyes were dry like sand paper, but he was too disoriented to figure out where his hands were, let alone use them.  “Heh-EhSHOO!”  A wet sniffle, and then, “Hetcchooo!”

 

He heard the sounds of movement coming down the hall.  Jean was dressed in his sleep pants, and rubbing at his eye.  “’m sorry for leaving you alone,” he said his voice thick with sleep.  “I was reading and fell to sleep.”

 

“Think nothing of it,” he said, taking in the sight of before him.  ValJean was a sight for sore eyes… literally.  “You deserve sleep, too.  You must be exhau… ex-haw-st…dHESHOO!”  The sneeze exploded out of him, causing his head to pound in protest.  His eyes felt like they were burning, though tears tried to form to drop out.  His nose must have felt sympathetic because it began to run anew.   “Hah-Hasshoo!  Ugh.”

 

“Looks like you’ll be up for a bit, huh?” ValJean asked gently.  He turned on a few lights in the surrounding rooms, but nothing direct, as he didn’t want to pain the other man more than he already was. 

 

“Don’t seem to have much… muh-ch Ah-Hah-CHOO!  EsshCHOO!  EsshhSHOO!”  A quick swipe of his nose on his sleeve and then, “HEP-Shooo!”  He panted heavily, wishing to be dead or invisible or anything to get him out of this embarrassingly painful and messy situation. 

 

“Blessings,” ValJean said absently.  He paused and cast a fleeting glance at Javert.  Early in their relationship he had learned that Javert would rather his symptoms go unnoticed than decorum be followed.

 

“It’s late,” he said gruffly.  “Go to bed.  We’ll do this in the mor… the… muh…. Esschhhooo!”  He groaned, as his headache came back.  He rubbed at his dry eyes with his hand, as the other searched for his handkerchief, which seemed to have run away.   Suddenly, he felt cloth against his nose, and angry eyes shot open.  He snatched the handkerchief out of ValJeans hand and scowled as he blew his nose and cleaned up his face and mustache.  “Thank you,” he breathed, sneezing again.  He coughed.

 

“Do you really think I’m going to bed with you in this state?” ValJean offered gently.

 

“I wish you would.  You can’t do anything for it.  My body just has to get rid of the irritant,” he responded logically.

 

ValJean sighed, and came to crouch near Javert, his body popping in the process. “Cosette will be coming home in the morning.  I would rather you feel better than this.  I don’t want her to see you this way. “

 

Javert blanched and for a second ValJean wondered if he was going to be sick.  “No, she can’t see me ths wah-hay.”  He bit his lips closed and stifled a painful.  “Hssshtt!”  He sniffled wetly afterwards, blowing his nose lightly.

 

“Then let me help you.  Let me at least try.”  He wasn’t certain that any of the old wives tales would work.  But, he felt that it was worth a try.  

 

A nod, dark eye lashes fluttering down –the warning of an impending sneeze.  “Heh-eh-eh -.”  Before he knew what was happening, ValJean had pressed his finger against the middle section underneath Javert’s nose.  He was surprised by the action, and it seemed that the tickles subsided.  “Hegsshht!”  Sharp and wet, he sneezed down, catching his partner’s hand in the spray.  “My apologies,” he said, as ValJean withdrew his hand and applied hand sanitizer to it, wiping it off on a hand towel.

 

“None warranted,” he said gently.  “I remember seeing that on cartoons growing up.  Never worked for very long then either.”  He smiled gently, but turned his head.  He knew that most of these remedies probably wouldn’t work.  “If you get too embarrassed, just bite my head off.  We’ll stop.”  Did he just say that?  Out loud?  “Javert, I…”

 

“You’re right.  When I can’t do it, I’ll fire off at you. “ It was the way he did things.  Even in the middle of the night. With the man who had shown him so much kindness.  He was a right bastard that way – not only a real one.

 

ValJean sighed.  He rarely complained about Javerts inability to deal with personal or emotionally vulnerable situations without somehow making ValJean feel undervalued or underappreciated.  But, sometimes – when they were drunk or in the wee hours of the morning, something would slip out.  “I daresay that you likely will feel quite ridiculous at many of these.  Are you sure you want to go through with it?”

 

“Heh-Eh-heh-EH-HEH…Akkkscchhhoo!” The sneeze propelled him forward, and caused thin tears to gather in his painfully sore eyes again.  “Heh-eh-EH-Ehh….AKT-“ The sneeze was stopped suddenly, as ValJean pressed his mouth to Javerts.  Apparently, a surprise would stop a sneeze, and he was certain that Javert would not expect this.  The sneeze seemed to die away for a moment, their tongues parting and lips opening to deepen the kiss.  It was pleasant, but lasted for too short of the time, when Javert pulled away, clamping his hands over his nose.  “Pssshhhttaa!”  The sneeze was wet, but not as violent as the others had been.  “The reprieve was nice,” he said, after cleaning himself up a bit. “Hetchoo! Heh-Eh-Etchooo!”  He sniffed, the feeling making the pain in his head spread to behind his ears.  

 

He grasped at ValJean’s wrist.  “Please don’t do that again.  The thought of sneezing in you… it’s too disgusting for me to bear, and I’m certain I would never get over the humiliation.”  Another sniffle produced a wince, but nothing more.

“Of course.” ValJean said, pressing a kiss to Javert’s head.  “But, it felt nice to kiss you again.  I’m not used to going for so long without it.

 

“It was nice,” Javert whispered.  He looked imploringly at his partner.  “Jean, may I have some tea?”  he asked.

 

“Water?” ValJean asked, knowing Javert normally cared for coffee or nothing.

 

A shake of his head.  “Tea.  I’m cold.”

 

The admission worried ValJean, and he nodded to go set the water on to boil.  When he came back in, Javert was in the middle of another build up.

 

“Pull the tip of your nose out,” he suggested.  “There are stories that say pulling on the nose will stay the sneeze.

 

The build up had come to the head, Javert holding the handkerchief against his mouth, the top over his index finger and pressed up against the underneath of his nose.  Quickly, he started to massage his nose through the handkerchief, just in case it didn’t work.  The buildup stopped, and the tickles seemed to meld together until it was one cohesive buzz.  He blinked hard.  And then again.

 

“You didn’t sneeze,” ValJean observed, coming over to Javert and stroking his shoulder gently. 

 

Javert blinked again, his breathing becoming inhibited by congestion.  “No, but… I think the sneeze is stuck.”  While not as painful as sneezing for hours had been, this was not much more comfortable.  Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, and his ears became sore with pressure.  The bridge of his nose felt like there was a weight upon it. 

 

“I hate that feeling,” ValJean commiserated. 

 

He sighed, a pondering look crossing his face.  “It hurts,” he whispered, as he started to massage his nasal passages to try to sooth the growing ache.

 

“Javert?” ValJean asked, gently, his low baritone urging his partner to look at him.  When Javert complied, he blew gently into his eyes.

 

“Hurch-Shhefff!” The powerful sneeze was also very productive and turned into a long nose blow, which needed two more handkerchiefs before it was done.  Out of breath, sore, and trying to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth, he let his eyes flutter closed.

 

“Do you still want your tea?” ValJean asked, gently, trying to smother back a yawn.

 

“Yes, please,” he responded, biting back the snippy response that was on the tip of his tongue.   He reached out for the cup blindly, realizing far too late that he bump against the back of his hand that he felt was the cup and not ValJean.

 

ValJean gasped as the scalding liquid burned his hand and splashed on his torso as the cup went flying off the saucer.

 

When he gasped, Javert’s eyes flew open.  A few crunchy coughs escaped him, as he sat up looking at ValJean.  “What? Jean, are

you okay?”  He pushed himself to his feet, wincing as the pressure in his head changed.  He followed him to the kitchen, where he found him pressing a damp wash  cloth to his arm and hand, alternating them with his bare side, which was turning red.  “Jean, I apologize.  I… I should have looked at what I was doing.”

 

“It’s all right.  It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “The burn will be gone in the morning.”  He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, and smiled.  “I’m fine, really,” he said, lying through his smiling lips.  He hurt dreadfully, and had boiled the water and then some in order to get it hot enough to break up Javert’s congestion.  He was tired, and concerned, and running out of energy.

 

Javert gave him a dubious look and then took a few quick steps backwards.  “Hachcssshoo!   Huh-uh-Hah-Sehhuh!”   The sneezes both doubled him over, barely covering the spray with an open hand, and made him lose his balance.  He stumbled backwards, huffing out a wet cough when he backed into the wall.  Another wet cough and then, “Hur-Esstcchhh!”  Defeated, he let himself slide down the wall until his was sitting on the floor, his head spinning. 

 

ValJean groaned as he knelt beside him.  “Bless you, love,” he murmured.  “Are you okay?”

 

“No,” Javert snapped, unable to open his eyes, and bringing a hand up to his forehead, allowing his thumb to rub his temple.  He sniffed. 

 

A sigh, then, “What can I do?”

 

“You can leave me alone,” Javert snapped again.  Tired, dizzy, and far too uncomfortable for his own liking, he couldn’t maintain the politeness that he had been throughout the night.  “Obviously these old wives tales aren’t working.”  He slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the man in front of him, who apparently didn’t think that he was being watched.  Thin brown eyebrows curved in concern as he realized that ValJean looked absolutely forlorn.  He closed his eyes, trying to think through the fog, when he heard another sigh and heard ValJean get up.  For a terrifying moment, he thought that he was really going to leave.  But, he heard water pouring and then some odd shaking.

 

“Here,” ValJean said, putting the warm mug in his hand. 

 

Javert took a quick swallow without even trying to sniff or blow it.  Almost immediately, he felt his body grow cold, his sinuses opened, and his stomach lurched.  He coughed, as he his eyes sprung open and his sinuses exploded in tickles.  “Hur-ESSHHH!  Huh-Eh-

Assschhooo!  Asshhhooo!  Eh-Eh-Ah-HEH-Schhoo!  Hah-Chaaaa-huh-HUH-Asschooo!”  Hands clasped firmly over his nose and mouth, he waited patiently as ValJean got him a handkerchief.  After snatching it away, he set to cleaning himself off.  His ears popped and to his delight he started to feel better.   After a final weary honk, he attempted to glare at VaJean, who was getting something from the freezer.  “What was that?” he huffed gruffly.

 

“Pepper tea.  Appeared to have worked.”  He pressed a hand to the burn on his side, hiding the ice cube in his large hand.  He hoped that Javert’s vision was blurry and he didn’t ask questions.  He didn’t want to admit how much the burn hurt, or how tired he was.  But, he was fading fast.

 

“Of all the stupid things!” Javert snapped.  He was lucky he hadn’t spit it out – or worse.  He felt his stomach turn with a gaseous feeling.  “Appears that one will be repeating on us,” he mentioned, grumpily, as he stood up. 

 

“Sorry,” ValJean whispered.  “I’m exhausted. I don’t have it right now.  Care to come to bed and yell at me from there?”  His adrenaline was running high due to the surprise and the burn.  He felt dizzy and didn’t care if what he said hurt Javert.  He needed to lay down before he fell down.

 

Javert looked at his partner oddly.  That didn’t sound like him at all.  “Are you all right?”

 

A gentle nod, closing his eyes as he did so was all that ValJean could handle. 

 

That was as deafening a no as Javert had ever heard.  “Come , let’s go to bed,” he said, gently leading his partner into the bedroom.  “I can’t promise I won’t sneeze on you.”   He smiled, trying to make light of the situation, but realized that ValJean was basically asleep on his feet.

 

Generally not much of a snuggler, Javert felt that when Jean wasn’t at his best, he needed to have him in his arms.  “I’m sorry for snapping,” he said, kissing the older man’s graying hair, as he wrapped a  protective arm around him.

 

“No matter,” ValJean whispered.

 

Oh but it did matter.  He smiled slightly as ValJean started to snore.  It did matter, and he would find a way to show him that it mattered, and he mattered.  

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ValJean woke up feeling under the weather, but doesn't want Javert to worry.

ValJean had known that there was something wrong when he woke up with a muzzy feeling.  A low rumble of a laugh had soothed Cosette’s concerns when she pointed out that he was breathing different.  The girl was too observant for her own good.

 

It was only after Cosette left for school that he let the full weight of his illness settle upon him.  It wasn’t a bad illness, as far as they went.  Head cold, some coughing.  He didn’t feel cold or feverish.  But, Cosette had been right.  His voice was deeper than normal.  Javert was nothing if not observant.  There was no way to disguise the roundness to his voice either. 

 

He sighed.  It wasn’t that being sick was any worse than whenever other people did.  Colds and things didn’t tend to hit him exceptionally hard.  But, he liked being the strong rock of the house.  He enjoyed being the one that Javert could rely on – since the rest of the city relied on him.   When he was ill, Javert would assist… but there was always a helplessness that seemed to come over Javert.  There was something that the older man couldn’t sooth away.  He hated it.

 

There was only one thing to do – make sure Javert didn’t find out.

 

“HurCHEHUH!” he sneezed violently into a cupped hand.  He sighed as the dull ache of a rotten head cold filled his sinuses and his mouth suddenly felt parched.  He sat down, exhausted in the kitchen chair and looked at the dishes from the morning.  He’d have to rest his voice.  He’d have to cancel his appointments for the day and make sure that he had enough energy to be himself once Javert got home.

 

“HurCHEHUH! CH-HESSHA!”  He shook with the force of the sneezes, and sniffed hesitantly.  Just as he suspected, his sinuses had already swollen shut.  This was going to be a rough day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ValJean cannot keep his ailment from Javert.

An uneasy ache settled in Javert’s shoulder as he turned the key and entered the home that he shared with Jean and Cosette.   He had been wounded there several years before, and every once in a while the old complaint acted up.  He stepped into their flat and waited for a moment.  Usually, Jean was there to meet him – or came in soon after.  But, after a few moments, Javert realized that he wasn’t going to come.  Brow furrowed in concern, he went to seek out what could be keeping the other man.

 

ValJean was sitting on the couch when Javert walked into the sitting room.  The television was on.  This alone was an oddity.   “Hi, love.  How was your day?” he asked.

ValJean said nothing. Simply looked away from the television and at Javert.  How he hoped that he would be able to say something by this time. But, no.  His voice was mostly gone, and it was all he could do to keep his symptoms at bay.  He did his best to smile, but was too tired to even think of how he looked to Javert.

Javert paused at the edge of the couch when she say the look on ValJean’s face.  “What’s wrong?” he asked.   It was obvious that ValJean was upset.  In fact his silence was borderline angry.  Angry and tired.  There were very few things that could make him become so quiet and sullen. 

When ValJean said nothing, Javert’s mind sprang into action.

“Is Cosette alright?” he asked, hawk-like eyes narrowing.

A simple nod. 

The nod made ValJean’s head feel like it was going to explode and caused his nose to start to run.  The prickles were dull deep in his sinuses.  He hoped that as long as he didn’t change the pressure in is head, he wouldn’t show any symptoms.

Javert felt cold.  Never before had ValJean ceased in speaking to him.  Something was wrong.  “Well, I’m going to take my shower.  I’ll… be out afterwards.”  As Javert moved down the hallway, he peeked into the kitchen.  Brow furrowed in confusion as he saw that there were still dishes in the sink.  Whatever had happened to upset ValJean so had happened after breakfast.

His mind raced while the warm pelted his aching muscles.  It had been a tough night that had him running – literally – for a good portion of it.  Perhaps Jean had tried to call him and he hadn’t called back.  He couldn’t figure that would be it.  He always had his … work… phone on him.   _Oh no…_ He tried to remember where his personal cell phone even was.   That could be it.  That the man had been worried all night long.  

He sighed as he dried himself off, taking several aspirin in order to stop the swelling that he felt in his knee and shoulder.  After getting his sleep pants and shirt on, he went into the kitchen and put the dishes in the dishwasher.  

An apology was in order.

***

No sooner had Javert gotten into the shower, than ValJean sneezed forcefully.  His head ached and he wished for nothing but Javert to go out again.  The man was not what anyone would consider a caregiver – nor would he want him to be.  That was ValJean’s job. 

He moved with a groan and pulled his handkerchief out of his back pocket.  Giving his nose a solid blow, he forced out a few coughs.   It was getting worse.  He wouldn’t be able to hide it from Javert for long. 

**

When Javert came back into the living room, he saw that Jean had poured himself a tumbler of brandy.  _Brandy, during the day? Not good._ He sat down next to ValJean, and took a deep breath.  Affairs of the heart were not his strong suit.  He had always assumed that ValJean would be there for him, and be able to verbalize what he could not. “How was your night?” he asked quietly.

Knowing that he couldn’t simply ignore Javert, he took a gulp of the brandy, letting it clear his sinuses.  “Ehhh – ETTCCHHH!”  He clasped both hands over his nose and mouth.  “Huh-Ehhh- HurCHEHUH!”  Chesty coughs worked their way out, and he looked apologetically at Javert.   “’m sorry, love,” he rasped, his throat sore and voice tired from lack of use.  “I woke up under the weather.”  He coughed a few more times and took another drink of the brandy.

Javert had startled from the sneezing.   His partner hadn’t been ill in many years.  Even with the swarming mass of infection that they called a school, and Cosette bringing home colds and ailments of all types it was Javert who was susceptible.   Sometimes, he wondered if it was because of Jean’s time in prison that had strengthened his immune system.  But, he’d never wonder that out loud.

“Under the weather?” he echoed. The sentiment seemed to be a dramatic understatement.

Another deep breath.  “Heh-Eh-KETCSSHHH!”  Forceful and wet, the sneeze had bent him nearly in half, the spray mostly caught in the crook of his elbow and the panting building again even before he was fully upright.   “Eh-TECCSSHHH!”   Possessed by lungs that could do nothing by halves, each sneeze was powerful and accompanied by a bit of a yell as it was detonated from his system. 

“Blessings,” Javert offered quietly.   “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Don’d wandt you to worry,” he replied stuffily. 

Javert rolled his eyes.  “And how long do you think you could have kept it from me?”

“As long as possible.  As it is, I’ll be sleeping out here tonight.”  If he lasted that long.  At this point, he looked forward to sleeping through the day.

“You most certainly will not!” Javert protested. 

“You’ll get sick,” ValJean argued.

“We’ll work to make that not happen,” he said, knowing that Jean would do anything he could to not let him get sick.   He opened his arms, and felt a rush of a warm emotion he couldn’t name as Jean made himself comfortable against him.   He listened to the sounds made by Jean’s weakened body.  “Are you wheezing?” he asked. 

“A liddle bidt,” ValJean responded, his voice thick with congestion.   He coughed against the pressure in his head.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Javert asked, knowing it was a crapshoot.  There was a chance that Jean would say he had.  And then Javert would be forced to admit that he had left his personal cell at the station. 

“Didn’t feel that poorly last night.  Just tired.”  A sniffle.  Another cough.

Loathe to tell him to move, Javert winced as Jean relaxed, his weight pressing on Javert’s leg.  He thought about all of the times Jean had taken care of him… never complaining even when Javert raged at him verbally, or lashed out at him physically.   “Jean, how about we go to bed?” he offered, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.

“You go,” Jean whispered, too far into a comfortable sleep to want to get up. 

Javert felt torn.  He was hungry – tired – and desperate for bed.  But, he also felt like he was still in the field.  There was a comraderie that said that you don’t leave your team behind.  Jean was his partner in all things – they were a team.   He couldn’t leave the ailing man alone on the couch. 

“Come on,” he said, pushing him slightly, with one hand and his other grazed the man’s bearded cheek.  Fever.  _Yikes_.

ValJean got up with a groan, a large hand rubbing his right eye.  “Har-eheh-ETCCH!”   He sneezed into his hand as the pressure in his head shifted.  “By apologies.”

“No more apologies for sneezing,” Javert said, getting up with a sore groan.  He found himself quite out of breath.

“What’s wrong?” Jean asked, holding onto the side of the couch as the world bobbed around him.

“Nothing,” Javert lied too easily.  “I’m just tired.”  He forced himself into a standing position and  took his partner’s arm to help guide him into the their bedroom.   He was grateful that Jean’s body was too tired to be symptomatic.  He was afraid that he would blow his knee out if he tried to catch Jean. 

Putting his love to bed, Javert tucked him in snuggly.  “It’s okay,” he said, speaking to both of them.  He had plenty of experience with being taken care of – but taking care of someone… someones… that was something different.  It wasn’t just Jean who would need his care, but Cosette.   He hoped that he would not fail his family. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of role reversal as Valjean is the one who falls ill.

When  Javert woke up the sun was setting in the sky. 

 

_Cosette!_

 

The thought flooded his mind in hot anxiety and he jumped out of bed, hardly remembering as he pulled on the uniform that he had taken off mere hours before.  He typically didn’t re-wear uniforms, but he had no other thoughts than Cosette being left alone at the bus stop.

 

Nearly running to the car, he recalled that she had cheer practice after school.  While he thought the whole idea of nine year old cheerleaders was perverse, he couldn’t deny that it brought Cosette great joy. 

 

Adrenaline running through his system, he forced himself to drive slowly.  Catching a quick look at the clock, he realizing that he was just about on time.  He pulled up near the bleachers and waited, hoping that he didn’t look like too much of a mess.  He was still stunned that he had slept so long.

 

Pulling up, he smiled as she ran up to the car.  She had pom-poms in her hands and shook them at his window vigorously.  “Papa – we got to…” her voice died off for a second and then she squealed in utter delight.  “Javert you’re here!   Come on, I want to introduce you to Madame Cappenella.”

 

He rolled down the window and smiled at her, his heart still beating hard against the fears and anxieties that were now washing away.  There hadn’t been any harm.  It would be all right – she was all right.  Cosette was safe.  “Not today, petite.  We have to get home.”  He would explain the situation once she was safely buckled in the car.

 

“But, Javert, pleeeease,” she whined, shaking her pom poms at him again.

 

The metallic reflective strips were not nearly as annoying as the sound they made.  In fact, there was little that could be more grating on his nerves.  Feeling his heckles raise up, he glared at her.  “Not today.  We need to get home.  Your father is waiting for us.” A lie – well… perhaps a half truth. 

 

“All right,” she relinquished, drawing her words out so that he would know how little she wanted to do abide by his words.  “I’ll put these away, and be back.”  She walked away slowly, her head and shoulders slouched.  But, it didn’t last long before her ever present effervescence took back over and she skipped the rest of the way. 

 

He smiled as she skipped, deep brown eyes watching the childhood innocence that seemed to waft off of her.  These sort of moments were what got him through the sharp darkness of his nights.  Speaking of which, he hit the speed-dial on his phone, and called the office.  If ValJean was sick enough to sleep through the day, he was not well enough to care for Cosette.   Javert could not, in good conscience, leave the man alone to care for her.  It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

 

“You take care of your family.  You have enough leave.  Just let us know in the morning if you need to take off another night,” his Captain stated.

 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Javert said, wincing as Cosette got into the car, babbling a mile a minute.

 

Yawning, his exhaustion waning off of him, and the adrenaline finally subsided.  He was vaguely aware that Cosette stopped chattering as she clicked her seatbelt closed.  “Father?” she asked, carefully, her little voice filled with curiosity. 

 

“Yes, Cosette?” he answered absently, hyper aware of all of the children running through the parking lot

as though they had not a care in the world.

 

“Why did you call me, petite?  That’s what papa calls me.”

 

He sighed a bit, as he tried to keep all of his thoughts working in one direction.  “Because I didn’t want people to think oddly of my usual nickname for you.  Besides,” he said, casting her a sidelong glance with a smile, “you called me Javert.”

 

She shrunk back a bit, with a sheepish nod.  “You asked me to,” she said in a small voice.

 

He nodded, recalling the conversation that had made her feel so uncomfortable.  Valjean had raised her to not address adults by their first name.  For a while, she had called Javert his name at his request, but slowly she fell into a habit of calling him ‘Father’.  While always doubting his ability to live up to such a compliment, he had taken it in stride.  However, he didn’t want anyone to talk – more than usual – if they heard her calling him that in public, so they had made the rule that she was only to call him by his first name in public, and no where else.  She was good about following the rule.  “And you did it very well.”  He forced his smile to grow.  “But, Cosette, I have something serious to discuss with you.”  He knew his voice was too grave for such a simple conversation.  It was most likely just a bad cold.  Nothing to be this concerned over.  And, yet, he was very concerned. 

 

She quieted and nodded once, a habit that she had picked up from him. 

 

“You’re papa is sick.  Probably just a cold, but he’d going to need our care.”

 

Blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  “Papa doesn’t get sick – ever,” she stated.

 

“Rarely,” Javert agreed, driving home slowly so that they could have their entire discussion without Cosette feeling rushed.

 

“What do I do?” she asked, bright blue eyes cast up at Javert in askance.

 

“Simple things. I’ve taken off to care for him –.”

 

“You took off work?” she interrupted, the surprise evident in her voice.

 

Javert’s heart squeezed at the tone.  Had he been so absent – so career driven – that there was surprise when he put his family first?  He thought of the mornings that became afternoons before he came home, and the weekends where he missed all of Cosette’s activities.  “Yes.  For as long as it takes.  So, you don’t worry yourself too much, okay?  But, if you see he’s out of tea or water, get him some.  And snuggle him as much as you’d like.  It’ll make him feel better.”

 

She nodded.  “Should I bring him my comforter?”

 

A smile twitched at the corner of Javert’s mouth.  When Cosette had been small, she had a year where she caught just about every illness at her school.  He and Valjean had been beside themselves, especially since Cosette had taken to climbing into bed with them in the middle of the night.  She said she felt safest there.  Her pediatrician suggested a blanket that she could be cocooned in, that might make her feel more comfortable.  

 

“That’s a very sweet thought.  Perhaps you should ask him.”  He couldn’t keep the thought of Jean being wrapped in a pink  _Hello Kitty_ comforter out of his mind.  Although he knew the older man would likely turn down the offer, he knew that Jean would be touched by it none-the-less.

 

They walked into the flat quietly, a steadying hand on Cosette’s shoulder to remind her that her papa may still be asleep.  But, after hearing a particularly harsh cough from the living room, he steered her in that direction and let her go. 

 

Watching from the doorway, he waited until Cosette had greeted her papa.  The young girl was waiting, about three feet away, until Valjean was ready for her.

 

A tissue had been spread between his two large hands and was clasped tightly over his nose and mouth.  “Ihh….”  He pulled in an expectant breath.  A blink, pause, and then his whole body rocked forward with a violent, “Eytccchh!”  Another gasping breath warned of a second sneeze.  “Heh-Ehhh… Kectchhahh!”  After a quick blowing of his nose and clearing of his throat, he tried to smile at his young charge.  “Hello, petite,” he croaked, his voice rough and strained.

 

Without another word, Cosette joined him on the couch and snuggled up against him.  “I’m sorry you’re not well, papa,” she said in a voice so genuine that Jean had not the heart to send her away.

 

“Merely a cold,” he said with a sniffle.  He smiled at Javert and nodded a wordless thanks for picking her up.  Jean had awoken with the closing of the door.  When he looked at the clock, he realized where Javert had gone.  And it was a good thing too.  Jean’s head was so stuffed up that his equilibrium was off.  Even walking out into the living room had its share of head-swims, and had left Jean utterly exhausted from the exertion. 

 

Javert took that as a sign to come over and give him a kiss on the cheek.  Fever.

 

A concerned hand caressed Jean face; his thumb pulling gently at the man’s forehead and cupping the side of his head with a firm, but comforting touch. 

 

Jean sighed in comfort as the touch released some of the tension that had been forming into a headache.  “How long do we have you tonight?” he asked, trying to figure out how he was going to be the responsible adult when he felt so utterly lousy.

 

“I took off tonight.”

 

Were Valjean not so ill, the quick raising of his eyebrows would have been comical.  “It’s not that bad,” he tried to rationalize.

 

“It is.  You’re running a fever, and need your rest.”  He felt heavy handed.  Valjean did not need him to care for him.  He had been through far worse in his lifetime.  But, Javert was not comfortable in the caregiver role.  He wasn’t a deep well of sympathy and forgiveness.  And, he had no idea how to handle the emotions that swirled inside him like they were on the tea cup ride.   He leaned back and looked down on the patriarch of their family.

 

“Well, I thank yuh –you,” he said, pulling the arm that had been wrapped around Cosette free.  Quickly, he plucked two tissues from the box and held them in front of his face.  “Yiissshhhooo!” he sneezed violently, the force causing him to nearly fold in half.  Several smaller, much more restrained sneezes were smothered into the same tissue.  “Ketch! Etch! Eettch!  Kesshttchh!”  He groaned as he sat back, opening and closing his jaw as he waited for his ears to pop.

 

Cosette, who had leaned back when the attach hit, leaned back against him, wrapping her small arms around him. 

 

“Bless you,” Javert said.  “I’m going to make dinner – tea for you,” he directed at Valjean.  “Cosette, what would you like?”

 

“Tea?” she asked.

 

“Cute.  Leftovers?”

 

She nodded.  With a mischievous glint in her eye she smiled as she said, “That way you won’t burn down the kitchen.”

 

He forced himself to chuckle at her cheek.  “Once.  I set off the smoke detector once,” he muttered as he left the room.

 

He heard Valjean speaking to her in hushed tones, and her retort slightly louder that Javert knew she was joking. 

 

He smiled.  Were this a year ago he would have taken exception to her tone.  But, he knew her better now.  He understood that she picked up the teasing from the way he and her papa bantered.   Placing her plate in the microwave, he listened to the crunchy coughs coming from the other room.   His heart constricted as he tried to think of all the things he needed to do.  

 

The microwave beeped, and he put in his plate for a few minutes.   While he had originally anticipated giving Valjean iced tea, he realized that if the man was dealing with that level of congestion, he would need the heat and the steam.  Belatedly filling the tea pot and putting it on to boil he took a deep breath.  “I’m not good at this,” he whispered to himself, trying to quell the growing panic inside. 

-

Cosette looked at her meal incredulously, her glance darting between the food and Javert.  “It looks funny.”

 

“It’s macaroni and cheese, with tuna and peas.  We had it last night and you liked it very much,” Javert said, feeling ever so slightly on the defensive.

 

A chuckle turned into a wet cough, which tied Javert’s stomach and shoulders into knots.  “You’re supposed to put a bit of water on it before you microwave it.”

 

“Oh.”  Javert swallowed another bite of his.  It wasn’t gourmet, but it wasn’t inedible.  “I guess I’ll um,” he started to take her plate.

 

“No no… I’ll eat it,” she said taking a bite and pulling a face.

_I’m so bad at this,_  Javert thought to himself.  “We have other left overs.  I’ll make you something else.” He pulled her plate away and went into the kitchen.  As he dumped the contents into the trash, he felt great doubt well up within himself.  Maybe he could get them a house-sitter… they both had made friends with some of the neighbors – people who said to call on them if they needed anything.  Did this count as anything?

 

“Javert?” Cosette’s small voice surprised him, and he turned on her suddenly, as though expecting an attack.  As soon as his subconscious brain met with his conscious one, he relaxed his shoulder and brought his arms to his sides.

 

She fidgeted in front of him, obviously struggling with some thoughts of her own.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to be rude.”

 

He shook his head, but couldn’t look at her.  “It’s all right. I know I’m not as good of a cook as your papa.”

 

“I didn’t mean to point out your flaws,” she said, clearly trying to find a way to apologize for what her papa had told her she had done wrong.

 

“Don’t think on it.  You’re forgiven, angel,” he said, absently.  He forced himself to disassociate before he snapped at her that he was all too aware of his flaws and didn’t need her assessments.  He pulled a can of soup out of the cupboard. 

 

“OH! The one with stars?” she asked, a little too brightly. 

 

He hated it when she did things like this for his benefit.  She was not responsible for him or his happiness.  His self-loathing kicked up a notch, and he forced himself to not look at her, for fear that he would become irate at her for things that were not her fault.  A nod.  “If that is what you would like,” he said, opening the can and pouring it into a pot. 

 

He was suddenly rocked as the young girl hugged him around the midsection.  “I love you, Javet,” she squealed before going to join her papa. 

 

Her warmth lingered with him for a bit longer and he felt himself soften.   Placing a lid on the soup, he went out to the living room where Valjean and Cosette sat.  “I’m sorry.  I’m not very good at this dinner thing.”

 

A smile crossed Jeans face, and he was worried about what he wanted to say.  Coughing wetly in to a fist he felt as though a weight was setting over him.  “Tea?” he asked, gently.   He frowned when Javert closed his eyes.  None of the other man’s features had changed, and he knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say. 

 

“Yes, of course,” Javert said, getting up stiffly.

 

He heard Cosette follow him into the kitchen.  He pulled in a purposeful deep breath. 

 

“Don’t have tepidophobia,” she said brightly.

 

Eyes squinted in confusion, he looked at her.  “Don’t have what?” he asked.

 

“Tepidophobia,” she repeated with a smile.  “It’s the fear of a poorly made cup of tea.”  She went to pull out her favorite loose tea holder – a flower that sunk to the bottom of the mug and was held there by its petals.  “I think papa needs the spearmint.  Don’t you?”

 

A nod. 

 

She smiled and handed him the flower. 

 

He took it, and stirred the soup.  It wasn’t hot, but it was warm enough.  “Cosette, can you hold two mugs?” he asked.

 

“Sure.”

 

He poured a ladle full of soup into one mug, and then set the tea to steep in the other.  “Give these both to your father,” he said, handing them to her.  “Are they too hot?”

 

“Nope.  I’m good,” she said, flashing him a smile.  Turning cautiously, she took her time bringing Valjean the liquids. 

 

Smiling after her, Javert took another few breaths.  He could do this, he told himself as he ladled a few spoonfuls into Cosette’s mug.  He knew she would think it funny.  If he was lucky, it might even elicit a giggle.  The young girl’s giggles calmed him on even the most stressful of days. 

 

“Here you go,” he said, setting the mug on the table, when he came in. 

 

She smiled broadly.  “See, papa? Now I’m like you?” she said.

 

Jean coughed a few more times, but nodded.  “Thank you, Javert,” he said.  His tired voice deepening with congestion.

 

“Of course,” he said, with a smile.  “That’s what family does.”  He never did learn to take appreciation well.  He started eating his now cooled recooked pasta.  It was pretty vile, but he didn’t say anything.  He could stomach it and, if he were being honest with himself, he didn’t want to leave Jean for any longer than he had to.

 

Suddenly, Jean put down his mug with a thump.  “ehh… hehKESSUMP!” he sneezed wetly into a cupped hand.  Pausing there, he looked at Javert with pleading eyes. 

 

“Ah.  Cosette, do you have homework?” he asked.

 

“A little,” she answered right before heaping a huge spoonful of stars into her mouth. 

“Ehhh… huh…uh..ugh.. UGH!  HUCHSHOOO!” A wet, congested sniffle set Valjean on a long coughing spell.  He still had not lowered his hands from his face.

 

“Bless you, papa!” Cosette exclaimed, just as loudly as he had sneezed.

 

“Cosette, go get your homework,” Javert demanded, uncertain of what else to do.  He reached for the tissues and pushed them in front of Valjean.

 

“But, I’m not finished!” she retorted, clearly confused.

 

“Please.  You don’t have to go do it now, but please get it so I can see what you’re working on.”

 

“’kay.”  She left the room far too slow for his liking, but it got her out of the room.

 

Turning away from Javert, Valjean took the tissues, and spent a few long seconds getting himself cleaned up.  “My apologies,” he said, his voice rough from the fit.  “Thank you for handling that.”  He swallowed and winced.

 

“I’m sorry it took me a minute.”

 

Valjean was about to answer when Cosette let out an ear splitting scream.

 

Without another thought, Javert took off running towards the sound.   Ready to kill whatever had caused Cosette to scream like that, he didn’t even notice that Jean had not followed.

 

He nearly tripped over the girl, who sat in the middle of the hallway floor crying.

 

“What is it?” he asked, kneeling so that she was between him and the floor.  He looked around ready to spy an intruder.

 

Still sobbing, Cosette mumbled something out about her backpack.

 

Looking around, Javert forced himself to come off of high alert.  No backpack.  “Did you leave it at cheer?” he asked.

 

She started to cry harder and nodded.

 

A sigh.  His heart was still pumping far too hard. Adrenaline was flooding through his system so hard he trembled.  “I’ll call your cheer coach.  I’m sure they have it.”  He braced his hand against the wall and rose stiffly.  “Go tend to your father,” he whispered, realizing that his knee was going to give him some problems.

 

Sniffling, she did as she was told. 

 

Panting, Javert waited a moment, collecting his thoughts, and putting his mind at ease before getting up to call her cheer coach.  By the time he returned to the living room, he gave up on eating.  He smiled at Cosette, who was snuggled with her father.   Both of them were lightly dozing on the couch, the tv on playing some mindless sitcom.

 

With a sigh, he sat down in his easy chair. He forced himself not to recline it, knowing that doing so with the television on was a recipe for him to fall asleep, and he couldn’t.  Not tonight.  He had to be the adult tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean continues to be ill, with a panicked Javert taking care of him.

Much to Javert’s dismay, Jean was not feeling any better the next day.  If anything, he was feeling substantially worse.   Sleep had been hard to come by, leaving Javert to stay awake to care for the ailing man. 

Mostly, the problem had to do with the cough.  When flat on his back, Jean was coughing as though he couldn’t breathe.  When propped up, his head was not supported well enough, even with Javert next to him.  When he tried to sleep on his side, he kept waking himself up, fearful that he would cough on Javert.   Finally, sleep came to him at about four in the morning. 

Used to being awake during the night, Javert took the time to catch up on some reading.  He had been working on a cold case for a few years now, and he kept feeling like there was something obvious that he was missing, although for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what.   In the morning, he let Jean sleep on and made sure that Cosette was ready for school.  He calmed her fears about her homework, and wrote a note which he was certain wouldn’t forgive her, but hoped would explain it.  He reminded her that she had cheer again after school and to get her backpack then.

As the hours drifted by, Javert felt himself getting tired. He knew that any sleep that he could get needed to be gotten while Jean was asleep.   

A few hours later, Jean awoke with a loud sneeze.  The sound that was made was something akin to a deep yowl and a suppressed explosion.  Whatever his subconscious had been trying to do, it had backfired, because when Javert came to, Jean was in the throes of a coughing spell punctuated by violent sneezing.  Propriety be damned, by the end he didn’t even try to catch the sneezes.  Instead, he swung his legs out of the bed and sneezed freely towards the wall.  At the end, he pulled a handkerchief from his end table drawer and blew heavily.

Javert put a hand on the man’s back.  “Jean, back into bed.  You’re shivering.” He held the blanket back and waited for Jean to follow his instruction.   “No need to test for a fever,” he said, as he tucked the man back in.

“No,” Jean responded.  His voice was husky and lowered almost one whole register.  He sighed, resulting in wet coughs that seemed to want to be pulled directly from his chest.

Javert felt a bit helpless.  “Tired?” he asked, hoping he could get the man back to sleep.

“No,” Jean answered with a wide yawn that caused him to shake.   “Weary… but… “  He paused, and brought his handkerchief up to his face.  “Heh-Ehh… Ekkassshhaa!”  He groaned, sounding quite tired. 

“Come here,” Jean said, opening an arm to him.  “Rest against me.”

“No,” Jean said, clearing his throat.  “I have to get Cosette up, and… fed… Eksssahhhaaa!” He sniffed wetly and stifled a sneeze into his handkerchief.

“Cosette’s at school, love,” Javert said.  “Long since.”

A sigh.  “Thank you,” he responded gruffly.  “And, you… did you eat?”  He sniffed congestedly, sounding more like a snort.

“Yes, I had breakfast.”  A lie.  But, he didn’t want Jean getting any ideas to cook.  As it was now, he didn’t want to eat anything that Jean cooked.  The man was far worse off than he had anticipated.  Looking at his love’s pale complexion, the fever stained cheeks, chapped nose, and – worse – the shaking caused by the chills that wracked through the man’s body, he knew that he would have to take off another night.  Maybe two.

Had he been more aware, he would have known that it was a lie.  As it was, he was too weary to think on anything except the truth.  Javert was steadfast and honest.  He knew he could trust the man to take care of himself, Cosette, and the house as Jean mended.  “eh… heh…ehh…EhhhHEHAttcchh!”  The sneeze through him forward, bending at the waist.  As the air from the motion fled his body, he couldn’t help but cough more.  His throat was sore and ears felt as though they would blow out if he didn’t get a handle on things soon. Suddenly, “Aptcchh!”   Loud, wet, and restricted, he tried to stifle the sneeze into his handkerchief. All it did was cause his head to swim.  Closing his eyes as a wave of dizziness swept over him, he became somewhat aware of someone in the bed with him.  Javert.  Yes, of course.

“Bless you,” Javert said, moving closer to Jean, and gathering the large man into his arms.  This was simply not going to do.  He would need to get him to take medicine –likely the over the counter flu medicine that they had in the house.  “Don’t suppress them.  You’re safe here.”

Jean nodded his understanding, and let his body go slack against Javert’s, large arms wrapping around the man’s smaller frame.   “’m sorry…” he said, meaning it completely and yet unable to explain why all at the same time.

“Don’t be,” Javert said, dropping a kiss on the man’s head.  “You just rest, and I’ll be right here.  Let me know if you need anything.”

“Just you.  I just need you.”  Jean’s tone bordered panic, as though he expected Javert to abandon him at any minute.

Rubbing a firm hand up and down Jean’s back, Javert kissed him again.  “I’m right here. “

Suddenly, Jean went to pull away.  He didn’t make it very far before.  “Hurchaa!  Hessttchhaa!”  Too late he realized that his handkerchief was in the other hand, so he wound up sneezing into a cupped hand.  “Sorry,” he said, lying back down. 

“It’s all right.  Just rest.”  After a few minutes, he felt Jean’s breath deepen, and he fell asleep to the smooth rhythm.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert spends the day taking care of Jean.
> 
> Intro to a new character that may make more appearances going forward. I know it's sort of sacrilege to do this, but I think it'll help explore the trio deeper.

By the middle of the day, the two men had moved into the living room.  Jean was cocooned in a nest of blankets, while he shivered at every movement of air.  The television had been turned on for his benefit, and he sat there trying desparately to pay attention.  But, everything seemed so loud, so confusing.  Besides, his attention was casually being drawn to Javert, who muttered to himself as he looked over the effects of his cold case over and over. 

“Tell me about it again,” Jean interjected into Javert’s thought process.  He smiled a bit, a hand moving out from the nest of blankets to catch a wet sneeze that barreled out of him.  “I want you – yuh-oo to t-tell me aga-heh-n.”  Another sneeze lurked there.  The tickling was furiously attacking the back of his throat, his nose, his sinuses.  Everything was irritated, but cold.  He was sweating, and at the same time shivering.  They had yet to take his temperature because they knew it to be high.  He was starting to wonder though.  He hadn’t felt this awful in many years… too many.  He wondered what horrors would be drawn out of his subconscious.

Javert had dressed in his only pair of jeans and a polo shirt.  He had few outfits that he could just hang about the house in, but he couldn’t bring himself to stay in his pajamas.  His senior officer had been called and he had taken the rest of the week off.  But, he couldn’t stop working – not really.  It wasn’t in his nature to do so. He sighed, and looked up at the television.  There was some talk show on about a few girls who came from good homes but where trying to grow up too soon.  Their out of control antics made him want to chastise the parents.  What had they done to make the children think that acting this way was acceptable?

“Bless you,” he said, absently, looking back down at his files.  He knew that there was a benefit to bringing Jean in on the long since dead investigation.  But, he also knew that the man was disturbed by the events, and he didn’t want him to feel any worse.  Besides, he was apprehensive. It was obvious that Jean was on the verge of another sneeze.  He knew from experience that were he to start talking and then the man sneeze, the interruption would reset Jean’s brain and he would have to repeat himself.  He hated to repeat himself. 

A few wet sniffs emanated from the man on the couch.  Jean knuckled at his nose in an attempt to alleviate the itch, but it only inflamed the problem.  “Ja-hah-vert?”  The word was pulled out, strenuously, as he tried to speak around the itch.

A sigh.  “In nineteen eighty a home for the elderly in Saint-Jean-de-Losne set ablaze.  The initial investigation revealed that…”  He trailed off as he heard Jean struggle for breath.  Focusing on the table, he listened to the sounds of the breathing.  Frantic, strangled, but hitching.  It was a sneeze, he decided.  Nothing more, nothing less. 

Not wanting to interrupt Javert, Jean had bit his bottom lip in order to keep the sneeze at bay. 

“… the fire was caused by arson.  There were four separate fires set… one with a coat, another with a Bible, a crucifix, and a cloth that had been used to cover a chal - .”

A deep, struggling breath and then, “Ekssshoo!  Eh-heh-Heh-HEH… EhhhShoo!  KESSH!  Heh-EH-SHOO!”  The sneezes gave way to harsh coughs, and Jean seemed to sink into himself, desperate to both keep the chill in the air away, by holding the blanket closed, and by making sure he didn’t sneeze all over the place. His head throbbed as he realized that he was unable to do either.  Deciding that the health of his family was more important than his own comfort, he let the blanket go as he reached for a few fresh tissues.  

He grasped the new tissues not a moment too soon as a fresh onslaught of sneezes barreled out of him.  “EhhHEH-Etcchoo!  Estccchh!  ESsstcchh!  Esss-Hah-Ksssttck!”  He groaned and huffed out a muffled ‘ow’ after the last sneeze.

“Hey,” Javert whispered in a way that could only be defined as tenderly, coming around to sit next to Jean on the couch.  Pulling up the blankets that had fallen loose around the other man, he wrapped them snuggly around Jean’s shoulders, holding onto the front with one hand.  The other softly brushed the older man’s cheek, pushing down a few wild hairs that had been mussed.  Jean’s skin was dry and burning hot. 

A knot formed in Javert’s stomach. 

"Don’t hold them in like that.  You know you have to get this bug out of you… just let your body do its job.”  A gentle kiss was pressed to Jean’s cheek, and he encircled the man’s back in wordless invitation.

Jean didn’t need to be asked twice.  Feeling the familiar comfort, he settled into Javert, pulling himself as close as possible to the new warmth.  “Thank you,” he breathed, his voice deepened with congestion.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.  Go on… say more about your case.”  He closed his eyes and relaxed against Javert.  The man’s voice always calmed him, soothed him.  And, at a time when he felt so disgusting and deplorable, it made him feel safe.

Another gentle kiss was pressed to Jean’s face.  “The story released said that it was a mentally ill patient that had started the blaze, but there weren’t any patients with a history of mental illness.  Worse yet are the items used… no one was a past priest or pastor.  No one should have had those items.  I can’t imagine it was a …”  He felt the man tense in his arms.  Although Jean tried to pull away, Javert held him snuggly.  “I have you. It’s okay,” he whispered.

Bringing two fresh tissues to his face, Jean sneezed.  “ESssh!  Eg-Kesssh!! Ugh…”  He swallowed a few times and coughed.  “Hep-Esk-SHOO! Uh, God, please forgive me,” he muttered.

Uncertain if Jean was talking to him or was indeed talking to God, Javert let the statement go.  He rubbed his hand up and down the man’s back.  “I can get you some Theraflu.  We have some from the last time I was sick.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” he said.  Jean felt as though he was being squeezed in a vice.  He felt as though his muscles were sore from use, although he had done little to use them.  His head thudded intensely, and he was certain that he was going to explode from congestion.  His throat was on fire and felt swollen.  Each sneeze and cough felt like it was going to cause either his head or his throat to jump ship.  And he was so tired.  He shivered when Javert left the room, and felt anxious, as though the man would never come back, even though he had only gone down the hall to collect the pro-offered medicine.

“If this continues much longer, I’m going to bring you to the doctor,” Javert stated, as he came back in.  He measured the liquid and handed it over to Jean, who took it in a gulp.

“I don’t want to go to the doctor,” Jean said, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“I know.  But, I don’t know what else to do.” Javert admitted.  He sighed slowly.  Cosette would be home in a few hours. He hoped to have Jean in bed before then.  Maybe he would have a chance to disinfect the living room, in the hopes that Cosette would not also be fallen by the flu.  He just didn’t have the strength to handle a sick child.  He was barely good with her when she was well.

Another hitching breath.  Two more tissues plucked from the tissue box.  “HarrESSHHH!” The sneeze was immense and had caused Jean to fold in half.  Two more tissues from the box for him to relieve his rather full nose into. 

“Come,” Javert said, helping the other man up slowly.  “We know that Theraflu knocked me out cold.  Let’s get you into bed and you can take a nap.”

A nod.  A blink.  Haziness filled Jean’s vision, as he clasped a hand over his nose and mouth.  “Har-essh-SHOO!” The force of the sneeze had built and in the end Javert did not have a good enough grip on him to keep Jean from falling back onto the couch.  Coughing dejectedly, Jean’s posture sunk back down. 

“Bless you,” Javert said, forcing himself to sit down next to his partner, even though he had no interest in wasting time.  Jean was a man of considerable strength and poise.  While he already knew that poise was impossible to keep while ill, the lack of Jean’s strength scared him more than he wanted to admit. 

Jean swiped at his nose and pulled away from Javert.  “I can’t do this,” he whispered. 

“You can.  I know the bedroom seems far, but you can.  I’ll help.”  He had no idea what Jean didn’t think he could do.  But, honestly, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know what bad memories or feelings of insecurity were being released by the fever.  Not known for being nurturing, Javert felt as though he was already at the end of his tolerance.  And, if this was the flu – which it certainly appeared to be – he knew that he would have to be a lot more patient for quite a long time. 

“Come, before the medicine kicks in and you fall asleep out here.”  He stood back up.

The idea of falling asleep where he was was just too enticing, and Jean leaned over, and spread himself out most of the way on the sofa.

Javert sighed.  “Come on, Jean. Get up,” he said, harsher than he knew he should, but he didn’t like being ignored and he had no idea how to fix his current situation.

“I’m just going to nap with you.  You don’t want to, I know this.  So let me be in the same room as you.”

It’s just not worth the fight, Javert thought to himself as he tucked in his clearly ailing partner.  This was more than he could handle.  He would have to keep Cosette in her room.  Like that would ever happen.  Too much was out of his control and it made him feel highly anxious.  “All right.  Get some rest.  I’ll be right here.”

Several hours later, Jean was snoring on the sofa, still fast asleep.  From anyone else, the sound would have grate terribly on his nerves.  But, he found something comforting about it.  He sighed and put his work away.  Most of the priests in the area did not have a relation in that nursing home it seemed.  He felt nauseous.  This work always did that to him.  The lack of food in his stomach probably wasn’t helping.  The concern he felt for his sleeping partner had long since turned into a deeply rooted anxiety that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Moving over to the couch, he put a hand on Jean’s shoulder.  The heat that radiated through the blanket was alarming. He hated to wake the man, but he also hated to leave him just because Cosette needed to be picked up.  A thought crossed his mind, and he licked his bottom lip wondering if it was really an option.

Quickly, he made his way to the phone and dialed their next door neighbor, Nicolette.  Nicolette was a grad student who rented a room in the house next door.  She had made good acquaintances with the family, and even Javert found himself looking forward to their talks.  He surmised that she enjoyed speaking with him because he challenged her on her theories, but he was well aware that it could just be because she was polite.  After a quick phone call, which ended with Nicolette thanking him for forcing her to have a break, he hung up the phone, relieved.  She had been quite understanding about the situation, and offered to bring over some things to ‘help’.  Although Javert had made it clear that this was not a good time for guests, she still insisted on dropping a few things off. He took a deep breath and dug down deep to remember to be gracious.  His temper was not one to be tapped into and used against one of the few outside friends they all had as a family.

Less than an hour later, the door opened and Cosette stepped through quietly.  Jean was still asleep on the couch. Javert looked up from his research, alert … but not quite cognizant through the haze of deep thought.  He nodded when he saw her, and walked to the doorway. 

Nicolette stood outside, clearly abiding by his statement that they were not in a good place for guests.  She smiled at him politely, and held out a few bags for him.  “Hot and spicy soup for Jean.  General Tso’s chicken and ginger carrot salad for you, and wonton soup with beef and broccoli for Cosette.  She told me what you like.”  She handed over a bag of food, that smelled delicious.

Javert was aware that his mouth had fell slightly agape.  He hadn’t even noticed that it took longer for her to come home with Cosette.  A testament to how much he trusted Nicolette. “Thank you.  I’ll, um, get my wallet,” he said, opening the door for her slightly.

“It’s a gift,” she explained, pulling her bag off her shoulder.  “There’s some homemade chicken soup – frozen, but it’ll heat up well.  Some crackers.  And a few carrots, radishes, and other vegetables for you to snack on,” she said, handing it over.  “I do need the tote back when you can though.”

Javert was touched.  He knew as a student she had little money to spare.  Her kindness made him feel choked up with a feeling that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but was most akin to gratitude.  “Thank you,” he said, with a slight bow of his head.

“Any time.  You call me if you need anything else –even if it’s two in the morning, all right?  I’ll be home.”  She gave him another quick smile and then turned and walked away.

Javert’s eye twitched as he tried to reason with her kindness.  It was unlike anything he was used to seeing, but it explained why Jean and Cosette liked her so much.  As he shut the door, he realized that Jean was no longer snoring.

Walking into the living room he sighed as Cosette was telling him all about her day.  “Cosette, why don’t you take these bags into the kitchen,” he said.

“But, I want to talk to papa,” she whined.

“Please Cosette,” he said, suddenly aware that he had to clean up his research quickly before she saw it.  “It would be a big help.”

“Okay,” she said, kissing her papa on the cheek. 

She struggled with the bag of food, but he let her struggle taking the extra time that it bought him to clean up his paperwork a blessing. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked Jean, as he put his paperwork in a folder and placed the folder higher than Cosette could reach.

“Sick,” Jean responded with a few strained coughs.

“I know.  I’m sorry about that,” Javert said.  And he was too.  He was the one that was so often ill, and Jean had always cared for him in the most caring ways.  But, Javert’s personality was different.  He didn’t have patience.  He hated when things were not controllable.  He didn’t like unpredictable outcomes.  Even as he tried to take things step by step, looking at each factor logically, the fact was that he wanted to lock Cosette in her room, get Jean into bed, and call a concierge physician.  One out of three was a start, but Nicolette had been correct in buying the ill man hot and spicy soup.  It would help cut through the congestion. 

“’s not your fault,” Jean absolved him and coughed a few times.  The poor man’s voice was so rough. 

“Let me get you some soup, and then you can go to bed,” Javert said, going into the kitchen, where Cosette was pulling items out of Nicolette’s tote and putting them away.  “Thank you, Cosette.  That’s a big help.”

“You’re welcome,” she answered.  “Here, this was inside,” she said, handing Javert an enveloped card.

Giving the card a confused look, Javert took it.  He noticed his name in a gentle scrawl on the back.  Opening the card, a few bills fell out.  Picking them up, he read a kind letter about how the money was for anything that would come up during this illness.  There was another offer to help, even if it was just caring for Cosette or running to the drug store.  Reading between the lines, he saw the inklings of a story … of something that Nicolette had lived through prior to becoming a grad student, prior to becoming their next door neighbor.  A mystery.  A story for another time.  He blinked rapidly as he imagined what could have happened to this young woman to make her the way she is. Maybe, he wondered, there’s more to her kindness, her talks with us…

A violent sneeze from the other room brought his focus back to the present.  “Do you want your dinner now?” he asked Cosette.

“No, I have two days worth of homework.  I’m going to do that before dinner,” she answered, grabbing her backpack and going upstairs. 

Usually attached to her papa, Cosette’s actions were out of character.  He wondered if Nicolette had said something to her.  He contemplated asking, but he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.  Especially when the gifts had been so plentiful.  He never liked asking for charity.  But, gifts from friends?  This was all so new.

He spooned some soup into a bowl, and put some of the chicken in a bowl for himself.  Bringing both into the living room, he set it on the table before sitting next to Jean.  “What can I do?” he asked, quietly.

“You’re doing it,” Jean said, giving Javert the biggest smile he could muster, which was very small in actuality.  He brought both hands up to his face and sneezed wetly.  Before Javert could reach for the tissues, he heard Jean sniff.  “Guh, oh… oh no…”  The words were whispered, but Javert knew exactly what they meant.  “Ehh-SHHH!  Hesshooo!  EtcchhHOO! Ugh… uh… ohh…” Jean groaned, holding his head.  He took the tissues from Javert and blew heavily, but it did little to ease the congestion. 

Javert rubbed his back.  “Bless you.  I know you’re not hungry, but please just eat a little soup for me?”

Jean nodded.  He sniffed a bit as the steam played with his congestion. “Oh, for a third hand.  Then I could – cou-hood…” A pause before continuing, “then I could have a tissue and eat.”

Javert felt stuck.  “I … could … feed you,” he said, haltingly, obviously uncomfortable with the offer. 

Jean swallowed a spoonful of soup.  “No, just be prepared to catch the bowl if I ... I… sneeze…”  He held his breath and felt the sneezy feeling pass.

Javert nodded and took a bite of his chicken.  It was perfect – spicy, sweet, and warm.  Not too much breading and tender meat. 

Jean had a few more spoonfuls before grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose forcefully.  This time the soup had done its job and it had a positive effect.  “Thank you for knowing what I needed,” he said.  When did you get it?”

“Nicolette brought it.  I asked her to pick up Cosette from the bus stop and she brought us dinner.”

Holding the crumpled tissue to his face, Jean nodded.  Eyes squeezed shut, as the other hand held his bowl.

Realizing what was happening, Javert took the bowl just in time for Jean to sneeze violently.  The sneeze caused him to fold in on himself and stole his breath.  Weak coughs escaped out as he tried to breath in, causing him to choke a bit.

“All right.  We’ll put the soup away for now. Please let me help you to bed,” he offered.

Jean nodded.  Grasping Javert’s arm firmly, he allowed the younger man to help him up and lead him to the bedroom.  “Thank you, Javert,” he breathed groaning as he slid his aching body into bed. 

“Of course,” Javert said, giving the man a gentle kiss. “I know it’s likely unnecessary, but I am going to take your temperature.  I think you’re too hot.”

The unspoken joke hung between them. Had the man been feeling well, there would have been playful banter there.  Instead, Jean coughed harshly and nodded.  “I think I saw you play with the thermostat.  And the fact that you are comfortable in short sleeves makes me think it’s dreadfully hot in here – even though I am rather cold.”

Javert nodded and went to get the digital thermometer.  When he came back in Jean was already dozing.  He put the thermometer in his partner’s ear, and waited for the beep.  At the appointed time, he pulled it out.

“So, what’s the… the verdi-hih-dict?”  Hands clamped over his face as a congested, “Huh-Umph!” worked its way out.

Javert’s heart thudded in his chest so hard he was positive that it would drop into his stomach.  “Bless you,” he said, putting the thermometer down.  “You’re sick.  We knew that.”  What he wasn’t going to say was that Jean’s fever had crested over 39 C.  He knew that anything over 39.7 was considered dangerous.  “You’ll be fine by tomorrow.” He hoped with a smile that looked more like a grimace.  “Let me go check on Cosette.”  He left abruptly, as he tried to calm his nerves.

Jean didn’t need to look at the memory option of the thermometer.  He knew that it told Javert what he had been keeping to himself all day – that he felt considerably worse than he was letting on.  He coughed, straining for a breath as his body ached to get the illness out of him.  He yearned for another dose of Theraflu, but worried that he wouldn’t be able to make it on his own.  He would just have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The arson at the nursing home is a real cold case.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert and Cosette argue before a long night

Cosette was just putting her books away when Javert knocked once and entered her room.

 

“I don’t know why you knock when I leave the door open,” she said, with a small smile on her lips.  She had learned in her first year of primary school was that if she closed the door, Javert would either barge in fearful that something ridiculous had happened- like she had been kidnapped through the window –, or he would expect that he wasn’t welcome and not come in – not even knock. It was confusing to her, but her papa had requested that she only close the door when she needed to be alone, like when she was changing or needed private time.  Ever since, Javert had taken to knocking on the wall before walking in.

 

“Respect,” he answered, standing by the door. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you with your homework. You can come downstairs if you want dinner.”  He swallowed a bit. A nine year old girl should not terrify him the way Cosette did.  Sometimes he was worried that someone would hurt Cosette. Other times he was worried that he was failing her because he was not a paternal person.  He tried to do well by her, but usually he felt like she was just humoring him because her papa told her to. 

 

“You can come in.  I’m not all the way done, but Lettie helped me a little while we were waiting for the food.”

 

He took two steps inside the door and waited there.  He didn’t feel comfortable coming into her room, especially since she was not permitted in their room except in rare occasions.  “Who is Lettie?” he enquired.

 

“Nicolette.  It’s her nickname.  Papa and I are allowed to use it when we see her during the day.  It’s nice.”

 

Javert blinked rapidly as he thought about that.  He guessed he had known that Nicolette spent time with his family.  However, it was never something discussed.  Never something flaunted so freely.  “Come on downstairs for dinner.  I have something that I need to discuss with you.”

 

She nodded and followed him downstairs.  She put her food into a bowl, mixing it up just the way she liked it.  She offered him a dish, but was not surprised when he opted to eat straight from the box.  It was the way that she assumed that he ate when he was at work. 

 

They ate in silence for a bit, until she had started to slow down.  He knew that she didn’t eat enough the night before, and wanted to make certain that she ate well enough tonight.  Especially since he presumed that it was going to be a long one.

 

“Cosette, I need your help tonight,” Javert said, seemingly out of the blue. He put the box of food down, and looked at her seriously.  “Your father has the flu.”

 

Cosette stopped eating.  “My teacher says that most of the time when people say they have the flu, they really have very bad colds.  She said that the flu is much more dangerous and lasts much longer.”

 

Javert glared at her.  He was long since tired of her telling him what her teacher said, and not just listening to her.  “Well… trust me on this, it’s worse than a bad cold.”

 

She nodded.  “What do you need from me?” she asked. 

 

“I’m going to call Nicolette… if,” he sighed.  “You’re father’s fever is alarming me. Should it go up, I’m taking him to the hospital.”

 

“I want to come,” she retorted.

 

“No, Cosette, no.  I can’t.”  He shook his head.  He knew that he would be so concerned about Jean, that he would be abhorrent to Cosette, if not ignore her completely.  “I don’t know how long it’ll take.”

 

“Javert, I’m not going to leave my papa!” she retorted strenuously. 

 

“Cosette, please…  keep your voice down.  I just need you to stay home.  I’m going to call Nicolette.”

 

“Call her to come with us then.  I’m not leaving papa. If you’re going to the hospital, so am I.”  She brought her plate to the sink and went back upstairs.

 

Javert sighed deeply, rubbing a hand against his eye as he thought about how incredibly awkward that would be. 

 

Finally returning to their bedroom, Theraflu in hand, Javert smiled at his partner.  “Jean you should be asleep,” he said as he measured out the medicine and handed it to him.

 

Jean swallowed the medicine with some difficulty and coughed harshly.  “I need you here,” he said, his voice a rough whisper.

 

“Cosette’s not in bed yet, but I can snuggle with you until the medicine knocks you out.”  He sat on his side of the bed, pulling the older man in to his lap as he did so.  He was so warm.

 

“Your heart is being very fast, my love.  What is it?”

 

Javert dropped a kiss on his head.  “Just concerned.  You haven’t been this ill in a long time.”

 

Jean pulled in a breath and coughed several times.  “Yea… sorry ‘bout this.”  He sniffled, which set him off on a much more violent coughing fit.    


“Don’t be… I’ve got you,” Javert said, holding him close. He basked in the other man’s fevered warmth until he heard Jean snoring against him.  Rubbing a hand up and down the man’s back, he forced himself to make sure that Jean felt secure, even in sleep.  The man had been craving his touch all day,  and even though he still needed to deal with the dishes and make sure that Cosette was put to bed safe and sound, he didn’t want to let go. Not yet.


	11. Chapter 11

A stuffy, non-productive sneeze huffed out of Jean, as he burrowed deeper into the nest of a too thin blanket that Javert had wrapped around him. 

 

Javert blinked hard trying to sooth his eyes which had dried in the hazy yellow lights of the hospital waiting room.  No blessing was pulled from his lips as he sat in the seat next to Jean, arm wrapped tightly around him.  He was dressed in his uniform, hoping that any clout that came with the respectability of his position would assist in getting Jean more quickly.  It didn’t seem to be helping.

 

Long seconds crept by and Javert felt Jean tense again as another sneeze crept up on him.  As the fever rose, his body’s capacity to handle the symptoms had lowered.  Normally disgusted by uncovered sneezes, Javert found that at this point he cared about protecting Jean and little else.  Tightening his hold around the larger man, he showed little other outward signs, as the waiting room had him feeling a bit like he were in a fishbowl being watched.

 

“Heh-Gusshhh!  Shoo!” Jean sneezed, his body thrusting forward with each stuffy sneeze.   Due to Javert’s tightened grip he didn’t move much.  He tried to excuse himself or offer an apology, but the words were getting stuck in a sea of dizziness, as though waves were pulling the words away and the thoughts leeching the energy right out of him.

 

“Bless you,” a gentle female voice offered. 

 

Javert focused on the owner of the voice, a young woman with sandy hair pulled into a messy bun. She looked tentative and exhausted.  This did not instill confidence in him.  He gave Jean’s arm a firm rub, and said, “Will the doctor see us now?”

 

“Yes, please bring him this way,” she said, leading him behind a white door and into the ward.  The stark lights hurt his eyes with their tinges of yellow, and the floor was so smooth that his boots squeaked nearly as often as the heels clacked on the floor.  They were lead to a small room, where the door shut.  As one who ended up in intensive care more than he’d cared to remember, he knew that this was not standard.  He assumed it had been done Jean’s privacy, not his own.

 

By the time they sat down, Jean was so dizzy he was fairly certain that he would faint.  Exhaustion flooded through him like the rip tide, pulling out the bits of energy that he thought that he had saved as they were in the waiting room.  If it weren’t for Javert’s strong arm holding pressing with confidence behind his back, he was certain that he would melt into a laying down position.  He felt as though his spine had lost off of his strength.

 

“Now I’m just going to test you for a fever, your blood pressure, you know – the usual.  The doctor will be in in a minute.”  She bustled around him, and he complied as he could.

 

 Javert stood stock still and at attention, although he watched what she was doing carefully.  “It’s flu,” he said.

 

“We’re just going to make sure of that,” she said, gently rebuffing the self diagnosis.  She was checking out Jean’s tonsils when it happened.  This frantic intake of air that foreshadowed to the sneeze about to come. 

 

Jean jerked his head back and turned towards Javert.  Hands clasped over his mouth, he wheezed in a breath and then sneezed violently.  When the fit had passed, he huffed out in exhaustion, setting him off on a rough coughing spell. 

 

Javert turned towards him, and pulled the man’s torso towards his own, holding the shoulders tightly, as the disease ravaged the man whom he loved so deeply. Looking up at the nurse he repeated, “It’s flu.”

 

She jotted something down in a folder and said that the doctor would be right in. 

 

As the symptoms faded, Jean sunk into Javert’s embrace.  “I want to go home,” he whispered.

 

“Monsieur Valjean,” the doctor said as he walked in.  “Seems you’re not feeling well, hm?”

 

“No, sir,” ValJean groaned, not wanting to move away from the warmth of Javert.  Another huffed breath.  Quickly, he pulled out his handkerchief.  “Her-UH-CHOO!”  The force of the sneeze scraped his chest and sent shivers throughout his body. 

 

“Bless you.  I just want to check your lungs,” he said, rubbing his stethoscope to help warm it up.  “Breathe and again…”

 

Valjean tried to comply but he was set off on a harsh coughing spell and could not continue.

 

“You appear to have contracted quite the case of the flu,” the doctor said. 

 

Javert pinched the bridge of his nose, but did not allow his temper to get in the way of his lovers care. The doctor dosed Jean with a prescription and then gave Javert a receipt to have filled in the morning. 

 

Coming into the house in the wee hours of the morning was difficult, as the experience at the doctor had leeched out the rest of Jean’s energy. 

 

Coming into the kitchen, Javert nearly yelped in surprise and went to grab at his night stick, which thankfully was not on his belt.  Nicolette sat at the table with several large textbooks stacked one on top of the other and open.  The table with littered with drawings in a small girl’s hand.

 

“Steady,” she said, holding her hands out until who she was and that she didn’t pose a threat  washed over Javert’s features.

 

He took a deep breath and the let it go.  “Sorry.”  He looked at the pictures on the table.  “Cosette woke up?”

“Yea.  She was pretty upset that you left her behind, so we drew pictures for the two of you for when you came back.”

 

 _We?_ He thought.  Most of the pictures were done in the hand of a child, but he wondered what Nicolette had helped with.  Although the word did not go unnoticed, there was no reason to make anything of it. 

 

He snapped to attention when he noticed her moving.

 

“I prepped coffee for you.  I thought maybe you would need to decompress some,” she said, hitting the button on the coffeemaker. 

 

“That was very kind,” he said, reaching into the pantry and pulling out the tote she had leant them.  “But, I’m tired,” he said as he handed it to her. 

 

“Yes, of course.  That was inconsiderate of me.”  She stopped the brewing cycle.  “I’ll be going then”  She stifled a yawn as she collected her books.

 

“Stay,” he offered.  “We have a spare room for guests, and you have more than earned a nights rest.”

 

“No thank you,” she said shaking her head.  “I live just next door.  I’ll make it. But, thank you for the offer.  Do call on me if you need me in the future.”  With that, she left quietly, locking the door on her way out.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the hospital visit.

The heavy weight of exhaustion had settled on Javert, and even the reheated coffee that Nicolette had made the night before wasn’t waking him up.  There wasn’t enough coffee for the day.  And he was far too exhausted to contemplate sleep. 

After they had gotten home, ValJean fell to sleep.  Javert had stayed in bed with him, but found it difficult to feel comfortable asleep.  He found far more solace stroking his love’s arm, and enjoying every moment that the older man found peace in his sleep.  Towards dawn, Javert had finally drifted off, holding the older man closely.  But, as soon as his alarm went off, he peeled himself out of bed, and switched off the alarm, lest it wake the sick man.

Finally, Cosette emerged from her room.  She was dressed well enough, even though he would need to brush her hair again.  He sighed, knowing that even at his best he couldn’t do anything worthwhile with it.  He would often watch as Valjean would braid her thin hair, his strong hands taming the sensitive tresses without Cosette so much as fussing.  But, whenever he tried to do anything all that she would do was shriek and cry.  He wasn’t certain that he was up for it, and wondered if it would really be so bad if she went to school with her hair askew.

“You went without me last night,” she said, petulantly.  “I said I wanted to go with you, and you left without me.”

“I did,” Javert agreed, getting up to get her cereal.  He yawned widely, covering it with the back of his hand.  “Nicolette was here with you.  But, I … I couldn’t do it Cosette.  I couldn’t handle both you and your father.”

“I would have been good, “ she said, her voice a bit of a whine. 

Javert nodded, putting the cereal and spoon down in front of Cosette. “I have no doubt.  But… ,” he yawned again.  Sitting in front of her, he wanted to reason with her.   “I had to help your father out to the car afterwards.  Had you fallen asleep, I would have had to have left you somewhere  while I got him.  Angel, I couldn’t take care of both of you.  I’m just not that strong.”  He rubbed a gentle hand over her hair, and cupped her hand.  “But, when your father wakes up, I know that he’s going to love the pictures you drew.”

Cosette studied him for a long moment, and then nodded.  “A bowl?” she asked, getting up to get milk. 

“Bowl? Oh, yea.”  He got up and got her a bowl, sitting back down with her.  “Do you want me to drive you into school?”

She shook her head as she started to eat.  “I can walk to the bus stop now.”

Javert startled and looked her over. 

Knowing the look, she swallowed her cereal. “You can watch me from the door, if you want.  The bus stop is right at the end of the road.”

He was stuck cold with fear.  She was so small.  How could she be allowed to walk anywhere unaccompanied.   “Does your papa let you do this?” he asked, nearly breathless.

“For months.  Come on Javert.  Please?  I like sitting with my friends on the bus.  Besides I have cheer after school.”

He nodded.  “You have your poms?”

“I keep them there.” 

He nodded.  They paid an extra fee and needed to get her a whole other set of poms because of that.  But, it was worth it in the end.  “All right.  Get your brush and I’ll brush your hair.”

She finished her cereal and headed off to get her brush.  While she was gone, he called into work.  He was not impressed when they said he needed to bring in a doctors note about his current situation. He never lied to get time off work.  And he had enough time.  He sighed when he agreed and winced as he stretched his neck out. 

“Nicolette is going to pick you up from cheer today,” he said when Cosette came back in.  “I’m going to try to, but I have to go into the office.”

Husky coughs emanated from their bedroom, and they both turned to look.  She squirmed as he ran a rough brush through her hair.  “Ow, Javert… stop, I can do it,” she whined, tears in her eyes.  Normally, he would fight her on it.  But, he just didn’t have the fortitude. 

“All right.  I’m apologize,” he said, handing her the brush.  He planted a kiss on her head.  “You’re old enough.  I’m sorry for not respecting that.”  It sounded like something that Jean would say.  

A small hand was placed on his arm, and then he found himself engulfed in a very loving hug.  “It’s okay, Javert.  I love you.”

He ran a hand over her head, feeling her silky, yet knotted hair, underneath his hand.  “Come on.  Take your two favorite drawings in, and I’ll let you say hello to your papa before you have to head out.” 

She quickly went to the pile of pictures and pulled out two.  Walking down the hallway, she ran the brush through her hair half heartedly.  Javert smiled, but hung back to give the two of them a few minutes alone.

After he saw the bus safely pick her up from the bus stop, he went to check on Jean.  Coming into the room, he was surprised about how hot it was in there.  Hope that it wasn’t because of his fever, he sat on the edge of the bed, and ran a gentle palm over Jean’s forehead. 

Jean graced him with a grateful smile, before clasping both hands over his mouth and turning away from him slightly.  The cough was harsh and terribly wet sounding.  Javert smiled at him sadly, but quickly turned away.  He knew that when he was ill, he didn’t want to be watched.  So, he went to leave to give Jean some privacy. 

“Jav-ert… please… stay…” The plea was punctuated by crunchy coughs. 

“I’m not going far,” he explained, suddenly nervous that Jean thought he didn’t want to be there.  “I just wanted to give you some privacy.”  He yawned widely again and sat down on his side of the bed, utterly spent. 

As the coughing ceased, Jean looked over his partner.  “Javert, you need to sleep.”

Guilt crushed him as though it was going to squeeze the breath right out of him.  “I do, but I will later.”  He looked over at Jean.  “I have to go into the office – I have to bring in your doctor’s note and delegate my cases.  I don’t expect to be long.” 

Jean squeezed his eyes shut, and Javert braced for whatever it was the older man was about to say.  But, instead, he brought his hands back up to his face and sneezed with a heavy, “HurSHUMP!  Hescchoo!”  A few more wet coughs worked their way out, as Jean reached over for a tissue.  He couldn’t help but feel abandoned.  He needed Javert, and once again he was being placed behind work.  This would never do.  “How long do you expect to be out?” he asked, after he had cleared his nose. 

“Bless you.  Not more than an few hours – three tops.” He wanted to give a reasonable estimate to include drive time, a meeting about how long it could take him to be able to come back, and properly delegate his case load.

Jean shook his head.  “I can’t… I can’t be without you that long.  I just…”  He started to get more than just a little upset.  What if he needed Javert?  He couldn’t be alone – not like this.

Javert eyed Jean suspiciously and figured that the man’s fever was going up again.  While he had often teased Jean for playing the martyr, he couldn’t remember the last time that the man was so needy – or scared.  He sighed, rubbing a rough hand over his beard.  “I’m going to call Nicolette again.  She can stay here with you in case you need anything, and pick Cosette up from pom.”

Exhaustion seemed to leech energy from Jean as Javert sat there.  “It’s too much that you ask of her.  She can’t just come she has cl… class-es…” A deep breath and then another violent Hah-ArCCHHHH!” that sprayed his hand wetly, and left him without an ounce of energy as he flopped back down onto his pillows.  He smiled as he felt Javert’s hand on his face again.  “Is there no other way?” he asked, hoping that Javert would elect to stay home. 

“I won’t be long,” Javert responded, placing a tender kiss on Jean’s forehead.


End file.
